I had (successfully) broken up with my (now) ex-girlfriend somewhere over a year ago. It was a relief, all things considered. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that there was some Gone Girl level shit in there, but it was pretty close. She would just *happen* to show up wherever I was, magically be in the neighborhood when I was home (which, in college, I very rarely was). When I tried to break up with her before, she found a way back in: And to her credit, it wasn’t hard to see why.

Evelyn was an incredibly sweet girl. She hid her charisma behind a veil of shyness, or maybe she hid her shyness behind a veil of charisma. It was always hard to tell, but I think underneath all the stalking, obsession, and bitterness, there was invariably some good intention to her name. I would be remiss to gloss over the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous. Of course, looking back at her a year after the fact, she doesn’t quite look the same. Maybe attraction fades a little when the love does. Still, no one can deny her knockout cleavage, only accentuated by her itty-bitty waist. On our long nights alone, when she begged me to rearrange her guts, I often wondered how she managed to fit any guts in that 5’4” frame. I used to joke, “I trust her as far as I can throw her: Which is actually pretty far, but I still don’t trust her that much.”

Throughout our whole two year relationship, I was confident she was seeing other people—or at least leading them on. She was like that, and it would be biased as hell for me to say that it’s not what attracted me to her in the first place. She was seeing another guy when we met, and I guess I was just young and stupid enough to see that as a challenge. So, when the shoe was on the other foot, I kind of resigned myself. Evelyn was probably going to mess around, so I would, too. “A shoulder to cry on becomes a dick to ride on,” as she often said.

I caught almost every guy staring at her dump-track ass every time we went in public. She noticed it and liked how it made me puff up my chest and hold her a little closer. But when I wasn’t around, who knows what happened. So, needless to say, I think we both slept a little easier once our relationship was over.

So, why am I telling you about my ex from college?

Probably because I’m standing on her desk right now. 

And she’s thinking of a way to rearrange my guts. But not in the fun way.

I don’t really believe in magic, but I do believe that sometimes life is a bitch. And sometimes, that bitch shrinks you down to two inches tall and dumps you on the doorstep of the only bigger bitch than life itself. I can’t say, to my embarrassment, how I even ended up here. All I remember is sitting at home, hearing the doorbell ring, and then ending up in a box on a doorstep.

Evelyn picked up the box, though, of course, I didn’t know it was her at the time. All I saw was an enormous knife cutting through the top of it, and then… light.

I saw an enormous hand reach into the box. It was at that moment that the reality of the situation finally set in: I was in some Gulliver’s Travels type thing.

As the hand reached around unknowingly for my body, I couldn’t help but see a large, round, gold wristwatch adorning it. As a matter of fact, it looked one hundred times bigger, but almost exactly like that one I had given Evel——

“Oh fuck,” I said aloud.

The hand snatched me and I was pulled into the light. And there she was. In all her glory. She held me at chest-level, where I felt her warmth emanate to me, slightly hotter with each passing breath. Her deep brown hair rested on top of her breasts, slithering like snakes with each expiration. It took her a little bit of time to believe what was happening, but when she recognized me, she gripped me a little tighter.

Silence. Interrupted only by the ticking her watch, which I bet she couldn’t even hear.

“How the fuck did YOU end up here?” she asked.

“You’re asking ME? I thought YOU were the one who did this diabolical shit.”

She laughed, tightening her grip on me.

“Maybe there is a God after all,” she whispered, pulling my body up to her brown eyes. I slammed my fists against her finger, but it was no use. She easily overpowered me and got a good look at my face. 

Licking her lips, she hummed a little tune. “It’s so good to see you. How long has it been? Almost a year? Well, we have LOTS of unfinished business.”

As much as I tried to resist it, her voice turned me on, just like it did from the first time I met her. My dick responded in kind, and she chuckled.

“Not quite ten inches anymore, is it?” 

I turned beet-red in embarrassment as she opened up her palm to get a closer look. 

“Oh, this will do. This will do,” she said with a truly cursed smile. Without warning, she launched her head toward her hand and opened up her soft lips, closing them on my pecker. I moaned, trying my absolute best to slide away, but predictably, it was no use. She ruthlessly tortured my balls with her giant tongue, flicking them from side to side with very little precision (at least that’s how it felt). 

“Evelyn, stop, please,” I begged her. 

Our sex used to be… pretty brutal. I mean bleeding-level brutal. We practiced consensual-nonconsent, which is basically rape fantasies. Now far less than a thirtieth of her height, I was praying that she wouldn’t show any teeth.

And to her credit, she didn’t. She kept licking me, closing and opening her lips around my shaft, and slobbering over my poor cock until I couldn’t take it anymore. Just being able to see her beautiful face descend on me was almost enough to make me lose it. But the powerlessness, that reluctant submission that I ultimately had no choice but to perform… maybe that’s what sent me over the edge. 

I came in her mouth, which ultimately amounted to little more than a tiny stain on her lower lip. She licked it off and giggled.

“Remember when you used to coat my whole rack with that stuff? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Please,” I started. “We don’t have to do this.”

“We?” she bellowed. “There is no ‘we,’ and you made that clear. Plus, I didn’t really feel you doing any work in that blowjob. You used to at least have the decency to fuck my throat. No. You belong to me now.” She loosened her watch and slipped me between it and her wrist.

Looking at my helpless body, she caught a glimpse of the time. “I should probably take a shower. Especially if you’re going to be where I’m planning to put you for the rest of the day.”

“Don’t you have anything else to do with your life?” I asked. 

She took off her shirt, which, being attached to her wrist, essentially gave me vertigo.

“Nope,” she said. “You’re my number one priority, baby bear.”

I growled. I used to call her that.

Continuing my vestibular torture, she slid off her shorts and panties, leaving me with a clear view of her neatly trimmed pussy. She plucked me out from under her watch and set me on top of her desk. 

“Do you still like it? And don’t lie to me,” she said, basically moaning as she slid her fingers down to her lips, spreading them for me to see. The watch I was just under shined in the light, its ticks again interrupting the otherwise pin-drop silence between us.

“This has been a really weird day, Evelyn. Maybe I’m just dreaming and I have to—”

She slammed the desk, sending shockwaves through my body. “I asked you a fucking question. Do you like it?” she demanded. Her fist rested right next to me, and my eyes tracked it all the way to her fuming face. I remembered this anger. I remembered this hatred. And it was a lot scarier now than it had ever been before.

I hesitated. “I love it,” I said. 

And just like that, the hate disappeared from her eyes. “I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I think you deserve a reward for your honesty.”

She pulled off her bra, and at this point, I didn’t even try to stop her. The immensity of her assets happily broke free from its prison, gracing me and every other microorganism nearby with a full view. All I could focus on were those perfect breasts with her perky nipples. She hadn’t changed—not a bit.

She turned to the side to show me her tiny—well, enormous compared to me, tiny compared to the rest of her body—waist, flashing her tight ass at me.

“And you like these girls as well, right?” she asked, flicking her asscheeks. 

“Yes, I do.” 

She backed toward me, leaving her butt at eye-level for me.

“Kiss them,” she commanded. “Both of them.”

“Evelyn, I don’t really know if that’s appropriate right now—“

“Kiss them or I sit on you, you shrimpy cuck.”

This time without hesitation, I kissed each of her cheeks. She moaned. I don’t know why—I doubt she could even feel my lips. 

She bent down to pick up the box I arrived in, giving me a full view of her naked ass and pussy. I nearly passed out. Setting the box next to me, she picked me up again, placing me in it.

“Now stay here and be a good boy. Mommy’s going to take a shower and she’ll be right back.” She slid off her watch and left it in the box with me. “I got this pretty little gift from a very special little boy. I want you to look at it to remember how small you are now. How you used to grab my wrists and shove me against that wall and fuck me silly. It could probably fit in your hand seven times over. And now I could probably fit seven of you in it. And I guess you can also use it to see how long I’m showering for. Because I’m going to enjoy thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you. Any questions?”

“Did you enjoy the monologue?” I asked.

“I did, honey. I really did.”

She walked off into the bathroom and turned on the water. Evelyn liked to take ridiculously hot showers, that burned me even when I was six feet tall. And, fortunately for me, they were quite long. Maybe long enough for me to plan an escape.

I looked around the box for anything I could use to get out. I could potentially climb up the watch, but that still left me about six inches from the edge of the box. There was no way I was making a jump three times my height. I needed to find something else.

I realized that I was standing on something: an index card. At three inches by five inches, it was a real task to turn it over, but I managed to. And to my surprise, there was writing on it. In standard, Arial font, there was a message. I had to back up pretty far to read it, but once I did, a smile crept over my face.

 “Welcome to the best game of your life, you match made in hell. Every 24 hours, at midnight, you will take turns being shrinkee and giant. If one of you dies, the other will be stuck tiny. Have fun, and try not to die. Your friend, the Witch.”

I had no idea who this witch was, but I was grateful for her. Because she just guaranteed my survival. And more than that, she guaranteed the best thing a man could ever ask for: revenge.

I had no reason to trust the message, but I had even less reason to believe that anything that was happening to me was real. So, keeping that in mind, I climbed to the top of Evelyn’s watch to look at the time. It was 4 PM, which meant I just had to survive eight hours. I sat down and waited patiently on the cool face, which was slowly getting warmer and wetter with each passing minute of her shower. I let my sweaty balls rub all over her beloved piece of jewelry, in a kind of protest against her cruelty. Evelyn didn’t know she was wasting her precious moments in control. But she would regret it—I would see to that.

So, the game begins. My move is coming up soon.